I knew he didn’t mean it as an insult, but still. Way to make a girl feel great about herself two seconds before an important interview.

He led me down an empty hallway and stopped outside of a back office where an older man sat inside, rustling through a mound of paperwork. A pair of glasses perched on his thin nose, and the overhead florescent light gleamed off his bald head.

Noah knocked lightly on the open door. “Mia McNally is here for her interview. Mia, this is Abe, the owner of Funky Froth.”

God, what a dumb name.

I pasted on a fake smile and edged into the room, perching on a small folding chair across from Abe’s desk. He glanced up at me, put down his stack of papers, and gave me a blank stare before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Nice to meet you, Mia.” He nodded at Noah, who left us to it, closing the door behind him. “Noah tells me you’re interested in the barista opening.”

“That’s right. I’ve always wanted to work in a cafe.” Lies, lies, lies. I had nothing against coffee, but it wasn’t my top choice of beverage.

“I see.” He shuffled through the papers, pulled out a notepad, and clicked his pen. “Well, do you have any experience working in a cafe?”

I cleared my throat. “Not as such, but I’m a quick learner. And I was a server in a restaurant back home.”

“Back home.” He clicked his pen twice more. “How many years did you work in the restaurant?”

“Four years,” I said. “All throughout college.”

“I see. And what have you been doing the past two years? Have you had a job since graduation?”

My heart flipped in my chest. How did he know I’d graduated two years ago? I’d brought my resume with me, but he hadn’t asked for it yet. Had Noah told him? Serena and I had been in the same class until she’d graduated early to go to law school, and he knew we’d grown up together, so he must have put two and two together. Still, why would he have mentioned that to Abe?

Unease slithered down my spine like a snake ready to strike. That old familiar feeling squeezed my heart. The realization that the person who sat across from me knew exactly who I was. When I’d moved to New York City, I’d thought I’d left that world behind, but it had followed me here. It dogged my steps on the sidewalks. It lurked in the shadows behind the lampposts. And it sat before me now with a pair of wiry glasses and a gleaming bald head.